


Mark As Spam

by tendervittles



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Come Eating, Daddy Kink, Dubious Consent, Emotional Manipulation, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Explicit Sexual Content, Gaslighting, M/M, Oral Sex, Physical Abuse, Spanking, Stockholm Syndrome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-21
Updated: 2016-09-21
Packaged: 2018-08-16 11:38:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8100973
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tendervittles/pseuds/tendervittles
Summary: Asha Greyjoy receives an unexpected piece of correspondence from Ramsay Bolton, regarding her brother.





	

**Author's Note:**

> A little bit late but... HAPPY BIRTHDAY GRRM! Here's a gift we ALL deserve.
> 
> Enjoy my filth, sinners~

It's nearly 2 AM by the time Asha makes it home. She's not quite drunk, but tipsy enough that she struggles with her keys outside the apartment door before she's able to let herself inside.

The lights are glaring when she flicks them on. She curses the brightness as she makes her way to the bathroom to relieve her aching bladder. On the toilet, Asha lets her head drop forward, her hair shielding her eyes as they readjust to normal lighting after the darkness of the bar and then the walk home long after the sun had set.

The toilet flushes. Her business finished, Asha returns to the kitchen to fill a large glass of water from the tap. She drinks it in one breathe, her throats working as she swallows.  She breathes out heavily once finished. Much better. Even if she'll probably have to pee again soon, at least she's rehydrating.

She never should have let Qarl talk her in to going out.  Maybe she should stop fucking him; she's growing too susceptible to his charm. That's usually about when she calls it quits with men; she isn't looking for anything permanent, especially engaged as she is, vying with her uncles for control of her father's business.

Asha walks down the hall to her bedroom, turning off lights as she goes. Her room is as she left it; a few items of clothing scattered on the floor, but everything mostly in its place. She isn't a neat-freak by any means, but she likes everything in its place.

Speaking of... Asha turns to her desk. Her laptop waits where she abandoned it in favor of an evening out with the boys. She considers picking up where she left off, angrily e-mailing with her Uncle Euron, but before she can make a decision, the screen lights up on its own and the computer chimes it's "new mail" tone.

Asha slides into her chair. Seems like Uncle Euron's working late, for once.

But the e-mail address isn't one she recognizes. Asha double clicks the message with growing trepidation. Euron Greyjoy isn't exactly known for his outstanding ethics and she wouldn't put it past him to resort to threats in order to get what he wants.

_Dear bitch,_

Asha rolls her eyes; men are so uncreative.

_Your brother doesn't want me to send this message, but I'm sick of you texting me 200 times a day and NO, Theon will not be getting his phone privileges back, he lost those once and for all, texting you about OUR PERSONAL BUSINESS._

_But I'm not a bad guy so I've included a little video so you can see just how well your little brother is being cared for. (Not like you REALLY care... When were you ever REALLY there for Theon, when your older brothers and your father were bullying him so bad he moved in with the Starks?  Hmmm?)_

_Enjoy, bitch!_

_\- Ramsay Bolton_

Asha hadn't noticed the video attachment but now she hovers her mouse over the icon, debating whether to click. She knows almost nothing about her brother's... boyfriend... but she knows enough to make her very worried for Theon.

She shouldn't do it. He's baiting her. There's nothing on that video Asha wants to see.

She sighs. Clicks play.

A new screen opens. There's Ramsay Bolton's face in the camera. A strand of black hair falls into his eyes as he adjusts the screen. Asha can see Theon behind him, on the floor, huddled against bed looking like he wants nothing more than to crawl under it and hide.

Ramsay backs up, still facing the screen, to admire his setup.

"I thought I'd show you how much better I am at looking after Theon." He says, grinning.

Theon's attention is focused on Ramsay the second he starts speaking, even though he's only addressing Asha. Her brother is thinner than she remembers, and he looks like he's been crying.

Anger tightens in Asha's gut as Ramsay continues.

"Someone was very naughty today. Why don't you tell your sister what you did, baby?"

Instead of speaking, Theon hid his face against his drawn-up knees. Ramsay curls a hand into her brother's hair and tugs.

"Come on now, sweetheart."

Theon takes a shuddering breath in.  "I didn't listen when you told me to go out to pick up toilet paper and then I talked back to you." His confession spills out in a rush. The admission seems to break Theon; his chest heaves and sobs wrack his slender frame as he grasps at Ramsay's thigh.

"Please, Ramsay. Please don't punish me. I'm sorry!" Theon drops his head until it rests against Ramsay's boot as he rocks back and forth in abject misery.

In response, Ramsay scoops Theon up under his armpits and settles them both on the bed, Theon between his legs, huddled against his chest. Asha has never thought of her brother as slight, but seeing him dwarfed by Ramsay's broad form lends her a new perspective. He looks tiny. Tiny and fragile.

"Shhh," Ramsay coos, "Hush now. It wouldn't be right of me not to punish you when you act up, would it? If I didn't, why, I'd be no better than your family, or the Starks, isn't that right?  Letting you go around, never facing consequences, getting all puffed up and cocky, thinking you’re above everyone else. You know I love you so much more than that, don't you, baby?"

Theon nods into Ramsay's chest. He hiccups pitifully. "I know. I'm sorry, Ramsay. P-please punish me."

"Good boy."

Ramsay pauses to give the camera a self-satisfied smirk.

"Over my knee. I'll use my hand instead of the belt since you're so ready to take your lesson."

Positioning himself across Ramsay's lap, Theon works the button of his jeans. Ramsay helps him pull his pants and underwear over his bottom and off.

"Twenty, okay sweetheart? Don't forget to count them or I'll have to start all over."

Theon nods. Asha could see him physically brace himself as Ramsay brings a hand down hard across his bare ass.

"One."

And again.

"Two."

Theon's skin immediately flushes pink; maybe Ramsay is only using his hand, but he certainly isn’t being gentle. Asha can’t imagine taking twenty smacks to such tender flesh. She’d hate to see what Ramsay could do with a belt, if he does in fact ever use one on Theon (and she has a sinking feeling in her stomach that he does).

"Nine."

Theon is sniffling again, barely holding back a renewed bout of sobs. Ramsay doesn’t respond except to pick up the pace between his relentless blows.

"Sixteen."  His strength is crumbling.  More than anything, Asha wants to turn the video off, slam her computer shut and try to forget she ever saw this filth.  But she can’t.  That’s what Ramsay wants, and besides, she _needs_ to know what her brother is going through.

And maybe Ramsay Bolton is right.  Maybe it _is_ because she feels she’s failed Theon before.  Closed her eyes to too many things that can’t be helped now.

"Eighteen--please Ramsay--"

"Behave." Ramsay warns.  He delivers the final two strikes so hard Theon yelps, no different than a beaten dog, quivering all over.

Then it's finished.  Theon is spent, head lolling, mouth open, gasping.

"Shh, you're all done. I'm right here. Come on back to me, baby."

Though it seems like he can barely move, Theon pulls himself together long enough to sit up and shift on Ramsay's lap so he's straddling the larger man.

"You did so well." Ramsay praises.  He strokes Theon's hair, letting him cry. "I know you want to be my good boy all the time. I know it's hard sometimes but I'll always be there to punish you when you need it."

Theon is nodding in agreement, his face tucked against Ramsay's neck.  “You did so well.” Ramsay says again, “You’re so pretty like this.  My good boy.  Can you feel how hard you’ve got me?”

Asha makes a disgusted sound, but can’t look away.

Theon whimpers as Ramsay moves his hand from Theon’s hair back to his ass.  He’s gentle now, almost tender, massaging the injured flesh, rubbing Theon’s back, nuzzling his neck.  “I want to fuck you.” Ramsay murmurs in her brother’s shoulder, “I want to fuck you raw.  Do you want it, baby?  Do you want my cock deep inside you?”

“Please?” Theon’s voice is hushed.

“Hm?  What’s that, sweetheart?”

“Yes, Ramsay, please.  Please fuck me.  I need it.  I want to be good.” He begs.

“Of course, baby.”  Ramsay smiles at Asha through the screen.  “Up you go.” He says to Theon, patting his bruising bottom.  Theon clambers off Ramsay’s lap, positioning himself on all four on the bed.

Ramsay laughs.  “Not yet, eager boy.”  He unzips his pants and pulls out his cock.  Ramsay is fully hard, and he’s massive.  “Get it ready.”

“Oh gods.” Asha groans.  She needs to stop this right now.  Just _stop_ and go to bed and pretend it was all a bad dream.  She’s not seriously going to watch her little brother get fucked by this man.  But still, somehow her finger is frozen on the mouse, the cursor hovering right above the little “X” that would close the screen.

In the video, Theon is leaning over, mouth open, wetting Ramsay’s cock with his tongue.  Either he’s forgotten why Ramsay is filming this or he’s beyond caring, because he’s quite enthusiastic.  Ramsay laughs again.  “That’s my good boy.  Get it nice and slick.”  

He lets Theon carry on, his head bobbing up and down with obscene energy considering what Asha has just witnessed, taking Ramsay all the way to the base with practiced strokes.  It's obvious he does this... frequently.

“Fuck.” Ramsay groans, “Easy, baby, that’s enough.”  He draws his cock out of Theon’s mouth.  Theon tries to chase after it, reaching like a toddler for a comfort object.  “Fuck.” Ramsay says again.  He shoves Theon around, getting a grip on his neck so he can force his face into the pillows.  “ _Fuck_.” He growls, “I need you now.  Filthy slut… my dirty, dirty boy.  You’re so good for me, so good for your daddy.”

Asha closes her eyes and tries her best to keep it together.

Ramsay has himself lined up behind Theon, trying to guide his cock inside.  “You’re so tight, baby.  With how must I fuck you, how are you still so fucking _tight_ —ughh—“

“Ahhh—Ramsay—“

They moan together as Ramsay finally slips inside.  Theon’s body jerks forward, but Ramsay’s arm is there, around his shoulders, to catch him and support them both as Ramsay begins to fuck him.

Theon’s front is exposed to her now and Asha can see that her brother’s face is screwed up in pain.  But unlike during the spanking, there’s something else there too—lust, mixed with longing, mixed with—no, that’s too awful to even contemplate.  He’s hard too and Ramsay uses free hand to jerk Theon in time with his own thrusts in and out of his ass.

Soon Theon is whimpering unintelligibly, fists clenching and unclenching against the sheets.  “I know, baby, I know.”  Ramsay is still relentlessly pounding away.  “I know you need it.  Come on, sweetheart.  Come for me.  Come for daddy.”

Her brother spills into Ramsay’s hand, moaning with abandon.  Ramsay quickly follows him to orgasm and they collapse together, panting.  Rolling off Theon, Ramsay pulls him on top instead.

“There we go.  Now what do we say?”                                                

“Thank you daddy.” Theon replies softly.

“Clean up your mess.”  Ramsay offers Theon his hand, cum sticking his fingers.  Theon dutifully takes the offered digits into his mouth to suckle them.  Asha feels like she might be sick.

“Good boy.  You’ve been such a good boy for me tonight.  I love you so much, you know that, right?”

Theon nods sleepily.  “I love you too.” He says, voice slightly garbled around Ramsay’s fingers.

Ramsay’s eyes flick to the camera one last time.  “Told you I take care of him.”  He winks.

The video cuts off a couple seconds later.

“BASTARD!” Asha yells.  What she really wants to do is scream.  She wants to scream and never stop.  She wants to throw her computer out the window and trash her apartment.  She wants to set Ramsay Bolton’s life on fire.

But she is too much her father’s daughter, and her rage freezes hard inside her.


End file.
